


My Thoughts Are Stars

by ladywongs



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, Tokyo Ghoul:re
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Touken, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9383267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladywongs/pseuds/ladywongs
Summary: Under a starry and lonely night, Touka wonders if Kaneki will be able to find the proper answer to their own existence, and she finds out that he's more vital for her than she could ever imagine.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!

**—o—**

 

She can hear his heartbeat.

At this time of the night, that’s all she can hear. The sound pounds at the rhythm of the stars above, flickering their lights at the speed of his heart, dancing the music of his chest. It’s like a lullaby, a noon she never thought she needed to hear and now she finds herself reaching out for the melody, desperately trying to break out through the lingering abyss of her own silence. It doesn’t matter if both aren’t speaking, it doesn’t matter if their eyes are glued on the starry sky and her eyes travel to his face now and then just to check out his expression, it doesn’t matter if Hinami fell asleep hours ago and the only thing that remains is the darkness of her apartment and their silhouettes resting in the balcony with two mugs of cold coffee between their hands. It doesn’t matter, because she can hear his heartbeat.

The only sound that reminds her that not everything is dead.

It wasn’t a usual thing for Kaneki to visit her at her apartment, but today he did. He did. He brought two books; he said, one for Hinami and one for Touka, and he stood by the frame door for almost twenty minutes explaining very passionately how the woman in the bookstore asked for his phone number until Touka was forced to drag him in by the arm, otherwise, he would have stood there for twenty minutes more.

 _She said my eye-patch was hot,_  he explained, once Touka dragged him into the kitchen and forced him to sit on the couch.

Hinami agreed, claiming that his eye-patch was indeed really cute. Touka also believed that his eye-patch was very cute, but she didn’t say it out loud. They spent the day drinking coffee, talking about books and playing with Hinami until she fell asleep in his arms after watching a very bad movie. Touka stared at the way Kaneki scooped her in his arms, her tiny body stirring against his chest, weary eyes trying to peer up and falling shut again at the sound of Kaneki’s voice,  _shhh, it’s okay, I got you_. He carefully carried her all the way to her room and placed her onto the mattress, covering her body with pink blankets and a fluffy teddy.

Kaneki was clueless, but Touka witnessed the scene hidden behind the dimness of the door, tasting the bitterness of her childhood in her mouth. Kaneki was clueless, because during a brief instant what Touka saw was not Kaneki being gentle with Hinami, a girl who only had eyes for him. She saw her father. Her father Arata, carrying her between his comfy arms like the princess he said she was, lying with her on the bed, telling her stories about a world that never existed, a world way less cruel than the one she knows now.

“Mmmh,” Hinami stuttered in her slumber, way too drowsy to even make coherent sentences. “But your eye-patch… it’s cute, you know…”

She hears Kaneki’s giggles.

“Goodnight, Hinami-chan.”

Once he abandons the room and leaves a gap between the door and the frame, not daring to leave Hinami alone in complete darkness, Touka thinks he will leave now. That he will take his jacket; that he will say goodbye and Touka would have to face another night by herself, wrapped in wicked thoughts that a starry sky can’t erase. But he stays.

He stays, and she can hear his heartbeat.

She can hear it when her hands hold the cups she’s going to fill with black coffee, she hears his breathing even when he’s on the balcony, waiting for her, sitting in one of her deckchairs and holding a blue blanket around his shoulders, dwelling in the beauty of the city. She can hear his heartbeat when she takes a seat right beside him, just a few centimeters marking the distance between their bodies. She can hear her own heartbeat when he smiles at her, so tenderly it hurts, and their fingers briefly touch when Touka hands him the cup.

 _It’s nothing,_ she whispers to herself between each sip.  _It’s nothing._

“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Hinami, but…” he starts, and Touka sets her eyes on him. He looks kind, he looks gentle, he looks real. “How is she doing?”

Her fingers loop around the mug even firmly this time.

“I don’t know,” she whispers in response, and her eyes travel to the sky, asking for some kind of miracle, maybe a proper answer. “Sometimes she’s fine, sometimes she cries in her sleep and I don’t know how to stop it. She comes to my bed sometimes, she doesn’t like to sleep alone, but she never wants to talk about it. She just sits on the couch reading books all day.”

Kaneki’s eyes land on her hands, her knuckles whiter than the moon above them, her fingers clinging her entire existence against the black mug.

“She needs time,” he adds in a whisper, slowly, his brows frowning at the realization. “That’s all.”

Time, time, time.

The thing is, Touka doesn’t find the courage to uncover any more time. She thought she had time when Ayato left. She thought time was all he needed to come back to his senses and return home, where he belonged to, right by her side. She waited, and waited, and waited, until time transformed into something distant, just a vague illusion of all the things she’s lost, a large list that became bigger and bigger each time. Having to take care of Hinami after losing her parents made the situation feel like a painful throwback, a fragile soul trying to find comfort in someone who was supposed to be strong, someone made to guide others, just as she tried to guide her brother, but she failed. She failed, and she was terrified to fail again.

“What if it’s me?” she asks, and Kaneki can hear the desperation in her voice. He stares. “What if I’m not doing a good job? Everything happened so fast; maybe she doesn’t want to live with me… I thought she’d be better here, but what if I—“

“Touka-chan,” he disrupts, and for an instant, Touka forgets everything she was about to say.

He’s not playing around. He’s not trying to sound friendly or pat her shoulder to make her swallow her childish insecurities. She can perceive understanding in his eyes, a frantic spark that shines brighter than the stars and it’s something she needs, she can hear his heartbeat and it sounds like a song of six letters and a name she has tattooed on her lips since the day she met him. Kaneki, who was there with her tonight. Kaneki, who seemed to understand what she was going through—how hard it was to start over and raise a child who lost everything just as she did. How the world suddenly seemed full of a terrifying and imminent insecurity. She remembered what Uta once said about what Kaneki was to her one night when he stopped by the shop, that there was an expression for it in Chinese,  _zhi yin_. “The one who understands your music.”

Touka can hear his heartbeat, and she knows,  _she knows_  he can hear the music of her heart too.

“This has nothing to do with you,” he says, very serious. “She just needs time to adapt, that’s all. I’m sure you’re the only person she wants to be with right now. She laughed today, she had fun, right? There will be days when she will feel better. You just need to be there for her, we both know how it feels like and... and look at us, we’re fine. We’re fine.”

We’re fine.

Fine.

Touka’s eyes travel to the sky again and her eyes get lost on an indecipherable map. How many times she’s done this? How many times she’s sat on this very same chair to gaze a road made of stars that slowly were losing their spark? People said that stars guided the path of the mortals, taking them through dangerous journeys that sooner or later would lead them home. Home. The sky was a map, and when Touka looked at the stars she wondered if Ayato would be able to decipher it, out there wherever he was, and find his way back home. And her father, in whom she’d thought of so many nights while holding a sleeping Ayato between her arms, contemplating the sky and wondering when would he return. But her father got lost, the map never worked for him. Where was he now? Where were Hinami’s parents, who were completely innocent? Where were all of those who got lost in the way?

Her eyes start to burn, the windy breeze caressing the bangs of her hair.

“Kaneki,” she whispers, and it’s such a low tone, such a small word that she thinks she has to speak again, part her thirsty lips and murmur a name that sounds like a prayer.

But she’s not alone tonight.

She can hear his heartbeat and he can hear hers. He listens, ushering his gaze on her pale face and during an instant he understands why Hide says she’s so beautiful.

Because she is, indeed, beautiful.

She is, and the thought of it scares the hell out of him.

Touka makes a pause, swallowing, almost embarrassed to ask such a silly question.

“Do you think there’s a place out there for ghouls?” she wonders, frowning at the realization of her own inquiry. “Like… some kind of heaven. A place for them when they’re gone… a place to find rest.”

Kaneki smirks, lowering his head, because it is a question way too hopeful that requires a hopeful answer that will make Touka feel better with herself, and hope is something he’s lost a long, long time ago. He wonders when it was that life became so bland, when death didn’t seem anything but a bland word he’s used to hearing quite often. Was it after his mother died? Was it when he was sent to live with his aunt? Or was it all after becoming a ghoul? Tokyo seemed sadder, but all cities are sad, even the people. But he knows it’s him, it’s definitely him.

Kaneki can hear her breathing, he can warn her eyes upon him, waiting for an answer, holding onto his fake wisdom. He shrugs, nodding, and sighs as his head falls against the backseat. His eyes fall shut, feeling the cold breeze caressing his skin.

“I hope so,” he mutters. “There must be.”

Touka blinks, sighing with defeat.

“Even for the bad ones?” She asks, and the thought of her brother comes to her mind.

She doesn’t want to know the answer.

And Kaneki is smart enough to dodge her bitter question.

“I personally like to believe that people become stars after they die,” he says, not very sure if Touka will get mad at the sudden change of topic.

Touka’s eyes glimmer as he speaks, and her lips curve into a sheepish grin, her eyes lost in the trees with their branches dancing in the wind.

“That’s a nice thought,” she responds, but she’s not sure if it’s real. “Do you think Hinami’s parents are stars now?”

She wants to believe it. She wants to believe that Hinami was not alone, that her parents were still looking after her from above, she wants to sit Hinami by her side, right there in the balcony, and show her the sky, the hidden stories of thousands souls strayed in the firmament shining for you, that whenever you look at them, as long as they’re there, they will always be by your side.

“I’m sure they are.” Kaneki agrees.

“I hope my parents are stars too.”

She doesn’t realize she says that out loud.

Kaneki opens his eyes, doubtful, and stares at her. She’s keeping her hands together, staring at the sky as if it will save her, as if she’s waiting for something else to appear up there, something dressed as a hope, something  _good_  for all the bad things that happened in her life. And he knows, more than anyone, he knows. She’s a lonely star strayed in the infinite, searching for a galaxy to belong to, lost in a deep darkness that Kaneki knows way too well and he can see it, right from the gloomy spot in where he stands, he can see her light breaking through, and it’s beautiful.

It’s beautiful.

Kaneki swallows, throat bobbing up then down.

“I-I think that… even bad people have some good inside of them,” he adds, and his eyebrows suddenly rise up, remembering something. “The world isn’t split into good ghouls and bad ghouls. We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.”

Both know that his last sentence is an attempt to answer her previous question, and Touka knows that Kaneki is trying to be smart and supportive, but her eyebrows frown deeply as she stares at him, giggling and looking at his terrified expression. Did he said something wrong or…?

“What the hell?” she says, looking at him like some kind of alien. “Are you a poet now or what?”

Kaneki gasps, chuckling and rosy-cheeked as Touka’s mocking expression disappears, she’s almost smiling sweetly. He lowers his head, both shoulders shaking at the rhythm of their laughter.

“Ah, well, I read that in a book, so… I thought it’d be appropriated to quote it.”

Touka laughs again, almost embarrassed.

“You and your books,” she mocks. “You’re an idiot.”

Kaneki nods, heat burning all over his face, and when the giggles are gone he finds himself staring at her. Both are staring at each other with a faint smile. There’s no sound anymore, no giggles or gasps or hums, just a silence that feels louder than their laughter and it’s way too comfortable. When did silence felt so warm? Slowly, she lowers her head, eyelashes dusting the smiling tenderness of her cheeks. She blinks a couple times, staring at the cold mug but the little flutters in her tummy tear at her gut, tug at the corners of her lips and makes her feel stupid, so so stupid.

 _This is nice,_  she thinks, and for a moment she doesn’t feel guilty at all.  _This feels nice._

After a few seconds of silence, Kaneki gets up with an awkward grin and a strange feeling burning inside his chest.

“W-Well, it's kind of late, it’s better if I get going. I told Hide I would call him and he will go crazy if I don’t,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.

Touka nods, taking her mug as she gets up from the chair.

“Sure,” she says, and grabs Kaneki’s mug as well. “Is he awake at this hour?”

Kaneki giggles, both walking towards the kitchen as Touka leaves the cups into the sink.

“Yeah, especially when he stays up late playing video games.”

Touka smiles a bit, staring at his back as Kaneki grabs his jacket and the bag, looping it around his shoulder.

“Yeah, he seems to be that kind of guy.”

Kaneki puts on his jacket and quickly stares at the book landing on top of the couch.

“Hey,” he says, pointing out the book he brought to her with his finger. “Read it.”

She rolls her eyes, stretching her arm and opening the main door

“Yeah, yeah…”

Kaneki crosses the door and Touka leans against the frame, arms crossed and barefoot. Both stare at each other awkwardly.

“W-Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he says, hiding his arms inside his pockets.

She nods, sighing.

“Thanks for coming today. Hinami was very happy to see you.”

Kaneki nods too, lowering his gaze; his shoulder slightly resting against the frame and Touka has the impression that he has grown very tall in the past few weeks. Or maybe it’s due to her short stature, but she has to rise up her face to have a clearer view of his eyes. His hair is longer too, his bangs getting in between his eyelashes, and she wonders how it’d feel to brush them away with her own fingers.

Wait, did she just—

“Touka-chan,” he says, and he’s not smiling anymore.

She holds her breath, and she can hear his heartbeat.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

She can hear herself whisper a faint “yes?” and she’s not sure if it’s just a thought or if she really said that, but it doesn’t matter anymore. His lips awaken to speak, doubtful, still not looking at her in the eyes.

“About Hinami…” he starts off, he seems as if he’s carefully picking up his words. “Don’t… you don’t have to worry about her. I’ll help you.”

He finally decides to flick up his gaze, and the determination in his eyes is overwhelming. Touka never saw him looking at anyone like this before.

“She’s really important to me as well, I think she just reminds me of myself when I was a kid. The difference this time is that she’s not alone, she has you, she has all of us, she’s not alone. I… I’ll come here more often to spend time with her, I’ll buy her books and we can even take her to the park sometimes. I’ll help you with this, everything will be alright. We’re gonna do it together.”

Together.

We’re gonna do it together.

He can see the way she thaws slowly, tense muscles unwinding one by one. Her hands tremble, her eyes burn and the word  _together_  feels so strange, so beautifully bitter for someone like her who has learned to do everything by herself, and now it was together. Together.

 _Don’t get your hopes high,_ her heart pounds. _It’s nothing, it’s nothing… don’t be stupid, don’t be—_

But it’s too late now.

She’s in over her head.

Words leave her empty, so she nods. She nods, and Kaneki smiles back, nodding too.

“Okay. Well, see you later, Touka-chan.”

He smiles again, so tenderly it burns, and she stares at his back as his silhouette gets lost in the aisle and there’s no sound of his heartbeats anymore, only her shadow reflected in the ground when she closes the door and leans her forehead against the wall, closing her eyes, the smell of his kindness still looped around her.

She doesn’t understand. It frightens her in every single way, and still, she looks forward to another day, another night with starry skies and cold coffee and sheepish smiles that will make her heart flutter with questions.

“What’s happening to me,” her lips growl against the wall.

Yet, deep inside of her, she knows the answer.

She wonders if the map will be a failure to him as well, she wonders if he will get lost too, just as her father did, just as Ayato is now. She wonders, trying not to cling on to this feeling more than she has to, because it could be a mistake, the worst mistake of her life. But it doesn’t matter anymore. If the map breaks, if the stars can’t guide him home someday…

 _If you’re ever lost and need direction, come to me,_  every breath given to him in each word.

_Come to me._

 


End file.
